


must be a bucky thing

by sinnerlikeme



Series: daisybucky. [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crack, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Humor, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-10 12:39:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 7,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11127162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinnerlikeme/pseuds/sinnerlikeme
Summary: bucky does some weird shit. luckily, daisy doesn’t mind it.





	1. parkour

**Author's Note:**

> honestly? who knows. i’m bored.

“Hey. Daisy. Daisy, hey.” 

Typing away at her keyboard, she refuses to acknowledge him.

Nevertheless, he persists. 

“Daisy. Babe. Daisy, hey. Daisy! Babe. Babe, look. Hey. Daisy.” 

Nevertheless, she continues to ignore him.

He sighs once. Frustrated.

“ _Daisy_. Hey, Daisy. Daisy. Daisy!”

This lasts for several minutes. She ultimately tunes it out.

Then, “Flower girl.” Because she pretends to hate it. 

He knew that would get her, since she has to keep acting like she does. With a heavy sigh, she turns around in her desk chair, raising an expectant eyebrow. “What?” she says flatly. “What is it?” 

“Watch this,” he tells her, and promptly rolls off the side of the bed, yelling, “Parkour!”

She barely flinches as his metal arm clangs against the floor. He groans.

“Idiot,” she mutters, shaking her head, returning to her task. 

Understandably, he doesn’t get up from the floor.

 

* * *

 

“What’s wrong with him?”

Jemma eyes Bucky, both critically and nervously.

Daisy passes his seemingly lifeless body on her way to the door. “Nothin’. Just leave him.” 

Jemma doesn’t argue. She simply shrugs.

 

* * *

 

“Where’s Barnes?” 

Fitz peers around Daisy and Jemma curiously as they enter the lab.

“He’s on the floor,” Jemma answers bluntly.

Fitz looks at Daisy. She nods. 

“Why is he…on the floor?” Fitz’s brow furrows.

“Don’t question his tactics, buddy.” Daisy claps him on the shoulder.

Fitz falls silent after that.

It must be a Bucky thing.


	2. excuse

“Uh, babe? I lost my badge.”

“ _Again_?” Daisy nearly drops her tablet. Bucky flinches at her tone.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, studying his feet, hair falling in his face. He looks like a bedraggled puppy.

Daisy sighs. “Retrace your steps, then.”

He frowns. “I can’t. My memory is shitty, that’s why I lost the fuckin’ badge in the first place.” 

She rolls her eyes and sets her tablet down. “Fine. I’ll help you look.” 

His badge isn’t missing. He knows right where it is.

He just wanted to spend time with her.

But she can’t know that yet.

 

* * *

  

“Jemma, Fitz, you guys seen Bucky’s badge?”

Jemma makes an incredulous noise. “Why do you keep losing it?” 

Bucky shrugs, pretending to look for it. 

“No, we haven’t,” the flustered scientist mutters.

“You had it this morning, though,” Fitz points out. “It was in your pocket.”

“I told him to retrace his steps,” Daisy mumbles, on her tiptoes, checking a shelf. 

Beefy arms folded, Bucky shrugs again.

Fitz gives him a funny look. Bucky ignores him.

 

* * *

 

“Go talk to Mack, maybe it’s in the garage,” Daisy tells Bucky after searching the training room.

“But I don’t go in there,” Bucky protests.

She arches an eyebrow, hands on her hips. “Yes you do. Weren’t you helping Mack yesterday?”

“No,” he fibs calmly, though his heart is racing. 

“Okay then, weirdo.” She makes a vague gesture and walks around him, leaving. “Good luck finding it.” 

He’s alone. That didn’t go as planned.

 

* * *

  

“I found my badge.” 

“I can see that.”

She goes and sits beside him on the bed.

There’s a pause, then she says, “You knew where it was, didn’t you?”

He closes his eyes like he’s so ashamed. “Yeah.”

Her lips quirk into a smile. “You just wanted to be with me, didn’t you?” 

He nods. She kisses his cheek. 

It was time well spent.


	3. bored

“Daisy, I’m bored.”

“And I’m napping. Go do something.” 

He huffs. She rolls her eyes. 

He leaves, reluctantly.

 

* * *

 

“Can I help?”

Jemma jumps with a girlish scream.

“Sorry.” He has an unintentional method of quietly walking up to people then scaring them. Old habits die hard. 

“It’s alright, love,” she sighs, catching her breath.

“Is that a yes or a no?” he presses. 

He’s so tall—or perhaps she’s just so short—that she has to tilt her head up to look at him. Her expression is weird, like she doesn’t know how to tell him ‘no.’ He _is_ rather hard to resist, what with the puppy-dog look and all.

She goes to answer but he beats her to it. “That’s okay, I won’t bother you. I’ll go find Mack. See ya.”

She was about to say yes.

 

* * *

 

Bucky wanders into the garage, where Mack is under a hood. He knocks on a table before speaking this time. 

“Can I help?”

“Oh, hey, buddy,” Mack greets, significantly less startled than Jemma. “Yeah, sure, if you want. Get me a wrench, would you?” 

Bucky beams, happy to be of service. 

At least, until Daisy wakes up.

Mack’s teaching him about the inner workings of an engine when Elena pokes her head in to tell Bucky Daisy’s asking for him.

Bucky quickly bids farewell and practically races out of the garage. Mack and Elena share a look. 

“That boy is whipped,” Mack mutters.

Elena snickers.

  

* * *

 

He comes back, willingly. 

“Oof! Hello.” Daisy sleepily embraces him as he rolls onto the bed and hugs her.

“You still bored?”

“Nah. You’re awake now.”

She kisses the top of his head. He smiles. 

That was all he wanted.


	4. winning

Bucky is scared of May. 

And yet, “I don’t want to hurt you,” is a sentence that tumbles out of his mouth.

She says nothing.

“I could accidentally crush your skull with this thing,” he warns her, flexing his vibranium fingers. Fitz gave him an upgrade. He’s hesitant to train.

She rolls her eyes this time.

He’s pinned to the mat thirty seconds later.

He let her win. Obviously.

 

* * *

 

“He thinks he let you win.”

May scoffs. Daisy smirks.

“Hardly. He’s afraid of me, you know.” 

“Oh, I know. You must be proud of yourself.”

May hides her smile. She is, but nobody can know that.

 

* * *

 

“You could take down her little five-four ass in a heartbeat.”

Daisy slides Bucky a beer as she speaks.

He pops the lid and takes a swig, shrugging casually. “Possibly.”

She squints at him. “You should try it some time. For science.”

“Simmons would love that.”

“She would. And you don’t want to disappoint her.”

Damn it. She’s right. As always. 

Bucky sighs. He downs his beer.

 

* * *

 

Jemma is present the next time Bucky and May spar.

She’s tense but Daisy is relaxed, thinking she knows the outcome.

Bucky tries not to gloat when he manages to pin May on his first try.

“You let him win, didn’t you?” Jemma whispers to May as Daisy congratulates her boyfriend.

May laughs under her breath. “No, actually. I didn’t.”


	5. lightsaber

“Man, I wish I had a lightsaber.” 

“Mood.”

Bucky sits up, bright-eyed now that Daisy has acknowledged him.

“Babe, how cool and easy that would be, to just go _swish_ ,” he makes a sharp movement with his forearm, “and slice the bad guy’s head clean off!” 

Daisy nods her agreement. “You should talk to Fitz. Ask if he can build something.” 

“I shall do that.”

He stumbles out of bed and puts his clothes back on, then leaves.

(They weren’t getting frisky. He just didn’t feel like wearing anything.)

  

* * *

  

“A lightsaber? You want me to make an actual, real life lightsaber?” 

Bucky bobs his head. “Yeah. I can help, if you want.”

It was bad enough he suggested it. Now he wants to “help.”

Fitz stands there, dumbfounded, for a good long moment, taking in Bucky’s hopeful expression.

This is Bucky Barnes. Nobody can deny him a damn thing.

“Alright, then,” the engineer sighs, swerving Bucky’s metal fist as he goes to pump it in the air. 

 

* * *

  

“Daisy! Daisy, look, look, look!” 

“What, what, what?”

The door bursts open and Bucky rushes in, brandishing the incomplete hilt of a lightsaber.

“Whoa.” Daisy raises her eyebrows and admires its authenticity. “Nice.”

“I _know_.” Bucky is grinning like a kid in a candy store. “It’s gonna be purple when we’re done. The blade, I mean.” 

“Why purple?” 

“It’s your favorite color.”

He doesn’t realize how much that means to her. 

 

* * *

  

“I hope the government doesn’t get their hands on that thing.”

“Jemma, we _are_ the government.” 

“Oh, right.”

Everybody stands clear as Bucky waves the saber around. It’s not an exact duplicate (Fitz is still working on how to turn it into a legitimate weapon that can, as Bucky put it, slice people’s heads off) but it can cause a decent amount of damage.

When Coulson shows up, wondering what all the fuss is about, he nearly has a stroke.

“It can only burn through materials for now, sir,” Bucky tells him as he gives it a whirl.

“For _now_?” Coulson repeats breathlessly.

Daisy and May roll their eyes.


	6. stakeout

“I’m hungry. And I need to pee.”

A long, agitated sigh.

“I told you to eat and use the restroom before we left.”

“I wasn’t hungry and didn’t have to pee then.”

Dark brown eyes swivel ominously towards him. He shrinks into the passenger’s seat.

If looks could kill, Melinda May would be on trial for murder.

Which is ironic. Because. Well, you know.

 

* * *

 

“You’re damn lucky we didn’t miss the guy while you were gone. Did you get me a slice?”

“You wanted pizza, too?” He unintentionally slams the door hard enough that the car rattles. “You shoulda asked me before I left.” 

Again, she fixes him with a homicidal stare, but he simply takes a bite of his pizza, ignoring her. 

“You have sauce on your face,” she tells him a few minutes later after he’s done eating. He quickly wipes his mouth. 

The back door opens and Daisy slides in, happy to join the stakeout. “Hey guys.”

“Please tell me you’re here to take over for him,” May practically begs. 

Daisy’s brow furrows and Bucky shoots May a peeved look. “No. I’m here to take over for you.”

May’s fingers clench so hard around the steering wheel Bucky swears she leaves indents.

 

* * *

  

“What’d you do?”

“Pardon?”

“May was more pissed off at you than usual.” 

“Oh.”

He shrugs. She smirks.

“Guess I’m just not a good stakeout partner.” He props his booted feet up on the dashboard casually. “And I still have to pee.”

“Jesus Christ, Buck. Why do you always keep forgetting to pee?” 

“Brain damage.”

“Oh, right.”

It gets very quiet for a moment, but then Daisy admits, fidgeting, “Yeah, I need to pee, too.”

He chuckles. “May would be having an aneurysm if she were still here.”

Daisy scoffs. “No. We would be dead.”


	7. space

Daisy is having one of those days.

Bucky gives her space. He knows what it’s like.

_“You wanna talk about it?”_

_“Not really.”_

He understands that all too well.

  

* * *

 

“I just don’t know how to help her.”

Fitz shrugs. “You can’t,” he says simply, quietly. “You just wait until she needs you.”

Bucky’s shoulders sag. He wishes she needed him now, but. He gets it.

You can’t rush healing. Or just being sad. 

 

* * *

 

He gets a text around noon. Saying hi.

He says hi back, adding an unnecessary amount of positive emojis to make her laugh.

It works. Curled up beneath her blankets on their bed, she giggles soundlessly.

That will be enough.

 

* * *

 

She finds him, much later, in the back of her van.

“It smells like you.”

“I figured that’s why.” 

She crawls in and joins him where he’s leaning against the wall, bouncing a ball back and forth. Practicing coordination. Thinking about her.

She’s wearing one of his shirts and it hangs off her tiny, slim figure like a dress. He snakes his left arm around her waist, tugging her to him. He is gentle, because he knows the importance of that, too. She sighs, weary.

“You ready to talk about it now?” His tone is light, implying she has an option to say no again. He just thought he’d ask. 

She ponders that for a minute. Then, “No. Just hold me.”

“Okay.”

He holds her. This is her needing him; this is him helping.

They sit together in silence for a long time.


	8. steve

Steve comes to visit one day.

Needless to say, Bucky is over the moon with joy.

The main entrance opens and the blond supersoldier walks in. Bucky nearly tackles him to the ground.

Daisy watches, endeared, as the two beefy men embrace and greet each other.

It’s cute. Like, really cute. Borderline gay.

No, literally. Bucky admitted once he had a crush on ol’ Stevie back in the day. After he had guzzled six beers, but still. 

“Oh, hey, babe!” Bucky says eagerly, and Daisy can’t tell if he means her or Steve. He tugs on Steve’s wrist and drags him over to her. “Stevie, meet Daisy. Daisy, meet Steve.” He’s so happy he feels like he might actually explode.

Daisy and Steve shake hands. They don’t bother telling Bucky they’ve already met before. It’d be cruel to dampen his spirits.

After Daisy and Steve pretend to introduce themselves, Bucky shows him around the base.

Steve’s been here a few times, too. He appreciates the enthusiastic tour nonetheless.

  

* * *

 

“I can’t believe Captain freaking America is in our lab.”

Fitz sounds childishly excited. Jemma has major heart-eyes for Steve.

“Nobody tell Coulson he’s here,” Daisy whispers under her breath.

Coulson finds out anyway. Needless to say, he’s pretty thrilled, too.

Bucky beams with pride as people come up to his best friend to say hello. He catches Daisy’s eye and grins even wider. She gives him a thumbs up. That’s how she feels when people are nice to him. He deserves to be fawned over. She likes Steve but he pales in comparison to Bucky.

Her Bucky, his Bucky. Their Bucky. They both see him with the same adoring eyes.

And Jemma. Daisy doesn’t think she currently remembers who Leo Fitz is.

 

* * *

  

“Today was so fun. I love seeing Steve.”

“I’m glad you boys didn’t break anything. You’re fucking ginormous, you know that?” 

He mumbles something that sounds like, “And you’re really small.”

She kisses his shoulder. “Says the little spoon.”

“Shut up.” 

“I love you, too.”


	9. trick

“Hey. Jemma. Watch this.” 

Bucky tilts his head back and balances a pencil on the tip of his nose. He flicks the eraser and it starts to spin. 

Jemma arches an eyebrow, unimpressed. 

Bucky curses a second later when the lead pokes his eye.

“Goddamn pencil. It wasn’t supposed to do that.”

Jemma scoffs, shaking her head as she resumes her computer browsing.

She wonders how Daisy got so lucky.

  

* * *

  

“Hey. Daisy. Watch this.”

He taps her on the shoulder and she turns around to witness him repeat the same trick, thankfully not hurting himself this time.

“Wow. You’re so coordinated, Buck.”

“Thanks. I’m gonna go show Coulson. He’ll get a real kick outta this.”

She shakes her head as he walks away.

She wonders how she got so lucky.

 

* * *

  

Bucky makes the rounds showing off his awesome trick. He knows it’s nothing special but he likes the attention.

“I swear he’s five years old,” Daisy whispers to Elena, watching him entertain a small crowd. 

Honestly, these younger agents could watch him watching paint dry. He’s the Winter Soldier, for God’s sake.

Elena side-eyes Daisy and nudges her shoulder fondly. “He’s perfect for you, then.”

Daisy makes an affronted sound, but knows her friend is right. She has the tendency to act rather childishly sometimes. She forgets her own age.

Bucky notices her standing there and lets the pencil spin without holding it in place. “Babe, look! No hands!”

She scrunches her nose and nods approvingly. Nobody will ever be this cute, she decides. 

Again, she wonders how she got so lucky. Across the room, he’s wondering the same thing.


	10. dinner

“I wanna take you out.”

“With a sniper rifle? Awesome. Be my guest.”

“No, silly, I meant to dinner.” 

“Oh. Damn it.”

She tosses him a wry smile to assure him she’s kidding. He glowers.

“Not funny, Daisy. I could never hurt you.”

“I know that. That’s why it’s a joke.” 

He pouts and traces the seam on her jeans. She sighs and puts her computer down to acknowledge his suggestion.

“That sounds nice,” she says sincerely. “I love McDonald’s.”

He scoffs and gives her an offended look. “We’re not going to _McDonald’s_ ,” he protests.

“Then no date.” She shrugs. He sulks again.

“Fine. We’ll go wherever you want. Just as long as you’re happy.”

“Yay. You’re, like, the best boyfriend ever.”

“Thank you. I try my best.” 

 

* * *

  

“I’m glad you were kidding about McDonald’s. This is much nicer.”

Buffalo Wild Wings is packed. They’re crammed into a corner, sharing ribs and onion rings.

She smirks, munching on a ring. “Oh, yeah. So romantic. You may as well propose, see if we get any extra benefits.”

“Free stuff?” His eyes widen. “They give you discounts if you’re engaged? You can do that now?”

She nods seriously. “It’s sneaky but it’s worth it.” She arches an eyebrow. “Well? What’re you waiting for, Romeo?”

He slumps in his seat, saddened. “But I don’t have a ring.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re not actually proposing, honey.”

“Then how will they know we’re legit?” He’s genuinely upset.

She waves a hand dismissively, unbothered. “I was just sayin’. You don’t really have to do it.”

But he wanted to. For the free stuff. But mostly to have an excuse to finally pop the question.

But he got excited about the discounts, too. So, it’s a tie.

 

* * *

 

“Will you marry me?”

She blinks twice. 

“What?”

“I said, ‘Will y—’”

“No, I heard you. _What_?”

“I love you, Daisy.”

“I love you, too, Buck.”

“Okay, then.” He shrugs. “Marry me.”

She rolls over to face him. “Not today. Not…right now.”

He understands. “Okay. Eventually, though, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, eventually.”

“Promise?” He holds his pinky out.

She loops hers through it. “Promise.”


	11. dragon

“Bucky, stop mocking the lizard.” 

“His name is Tad Cooper and he’s a dragon.”

Jemma sighs and rolls her eyes, rubbing her temples. “Get out. Of my. Lab.” 

Bucky scowls. “Goodbye, my son,” he whispers into the glass cage. “Don’t let the mean witch steal your fire.” 

A flustered Jemma chases him out of the lab.

 

* * *

  

“Is Tad Cooper still alive? Or did you murder him in cold blood?”

Not peeking up from the microscope, Jemma gives him the middle finger.

“I don’t see him anywhere so I’m going to take that as a yes.”

Daisy appears and notices him pressed against the lab window. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he whines, devastated. “Jemma killed Tad Cooper. She’s evil.”

Daisy arches an eyebrow, confused. “Who’s…Tad Cooper?”

“My new best friend. But she killed him when conducting immoral tests on his little dragon body.”

Daisy crosses her arms, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “I don’t…think she would do that.” 

“She would,” Bucky mutters grimly. “She’s capable of it. I can see it in her eyes.” 

Daisy spots the lizard in its cage, simply moved from one table to the next. She doesn’t say anything.

  

* * *

  

“Hey. Hey, Fitz. Why did your girlfriend murder an innocent lizard?” 

“I thought he was a dragon.” 

“Be quiet, Phil.”

Fitz pauses in the common room doorway to look at Bucky incredulously. 

“Jemma did what now?”

Daisy groans and pulls her hoodie over her head, hiding. 

“She killed Tad Cooper, a baby dragon with great potential.” Bucky scowls like it’s Fitz’s fault. 

Fitz shrugs. “She probably had good reason.”

And then he scurries away before Bucky can chuck his half-empty beer bottle at him.

 

* * *

 

“Why did no one tell me Tad Cooper isn’t even a test subject? I didn’t know it was bring-your-pet-to-work-day.”

Bucky strokes the top of the lizard’s head very gently. Jemma huffs beside him.

“I’d appreciate an apology,” she mutters, hands on her hips. “For accusing me of murder and animal abuse.”

Daisy reaches out to touch the lizard. “Good luck with that. I don’t think he’s paying attention.”

Which is true. Bucky has a new best friend.


	12. birthday

“Hey. Hey, Daisy. Wake up. Wake up, Daisy.” 

“Mmf. Fuck off.” 

“But it’s your birthday. You need to wake up.”

“What I _need_ is sleep. And if it’s my birthday, I’ll do whatever the hell I damn well want.” 

That shuts him up. Pouting, he takes his birthday hat off and places it on the nightstand. To wear later. When she wakes up.

  

* * *

 

“Oh, good, you’re awake!” 

She evaluates him, propped against the headboard with his arms crossed, watching her sleep.

“Have you been sitting there this whole time?”

She rolls onto her back, rubbing her tired eyes. He reaches down to brush a lock of hair off her forehead, letting his thumb brush her temple.

“Maybe.” He smiles. “I was so excited I couldn’t sleep.”

She grins drowsily. “You’re cute.”

He blushes and scratches his neck.

  

* * *

 

“Happy birthday, Daisy!”

Jemma thrusts a small package towards her, beaming almost as wide as Bucky is.

Daisy glances at them warily, then sighs and unwraps the box.

“A fifty dollar gift card to Target.”

“We figured you’d prefer to pick out your own gift,” Jemma explains with a shrug. 

Daisy’s face is warm. Her eyes sting. “This is great. Really. Thanks, guys.” 

She doesn’t mind when she winds up sandwiched between them.

 

* * *

  

“Did you have a good birthday?”

“I did. Thank you.”

She finishes her last bite of cake and sets the plate down before cuddling against his side. His hand settles in her hair. 

It’s quiet for a minute. Then he says, “How much does a dog cost?”

“Typically a few hundred to several thousand dollars.” 

“Oh. So we couldn’t bargain with fifty?” 

Her brow furrows. “They don’t sell dogs at Target, babe.” 

He scoffs. “Well, they should.”

“I don’t need a dog.” She kisses the corner of his jaw. “I already have you.”

He blushes again. That look on his face is better than fifty dollars.


	13. badge

“I lost my badge.”

A crease appears between his eyes. That’s _his_ ploy.

He turns around in his chair—well, Fitz’s chair, but he’s not here right now to tell Bucky to not sit in it—and assesses her for a moment, twirling a pencil between his fingers. “Is that so?” is his doubtful response.

She nods, looking very upset about her missing badge. “I’m not kidding. It’s gone. I’ve looked everywhere.” 

He purses his lips, taps the eraser against his chin. “Did you…retrace your steps?” 

She nods again. “Yeah. Twice. It’s nowhere.” 

He sets the pencil down and heaves himself out of the chair. “Okay,” he sighs, like it’s such an inconvenience. “I’ll help you look.”

He knows her badge isn’t missing. She knows he knows her badge isn’t missing. He just doesn’t know where it is. 

Actually, she doesn’t, either. She asked Jemma to hide it.

But he doesn’t know that yet.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Jemma. You seen Daisy’s badge?”

Jemma raises her eyebrows and shakes her head innocently. “Her badge? No. Nope. Haven’t seen it all day.”

She hurries away as they pass each other in the hall.

“Weird,” Bucky says with a shrug.

Daisy nods, slipping her hand into his. “Very weird,” she agrees.

 

* * *

 

“You guys looking for something?”

Regardless, May doesn’t get off the treadmill to help them look.

“I lost my badge,” Daisy explains over her shoulder, making an exaggerated “oh-well-what-can-you-do” look.

May smirks perceptively. Daisy presses her lips together to hide her sneaky smile, to no avail.

 

* * *

 

“Well, sweetheart, it must really be lost.”

Bucky scratches his head in utter confusion. They’ve looked all over the base and asked multiple people, but nobody’s seen Daisy’s badge.

They’re in their room, the last place they both thought to look. Standing with his hands on his hips, he looks genuinely befuddled.

She walks over and reaches around him, slipping her hand into his back jeans pocket.

She pulls out her badge. He gapes. 

“What?! How did—?” 

“Jemma put it there when you were napping on the couch earlier.”

“Did you know it was there?”

“I noticed it as we were leaving the lab to go look.”

She holds it, looks down at the silver bird emblem. He looks at her looking at it.

A beat of silence. Then, “You told her to do that.” 

“I did, yeah.”

He kisses her. 

It was time well spent.


	14. calling

Her phone rings in the middle of the night. 

He’s so excited he forgot time zones are a thing.

“Hullo?” 

“Hey, babe,” he drawls, and he sounds a bit drunk.

“Hey. Where are you?”

“In some crappy motel in Bulgaria.”

“Fun. Why are you calling me?”

“I missed your voice.”

Despite being awoken so abruptly, that warms her heart.

She’s so tired she doesn’t respond for a few seconds, which leads him to singing her name til she answers. 

“Ugh, sorry. What?”

“Baby, baby. Fuck, I miss you.”

She sighs. “I miss you, too. We established this already. Are you wasted?” 

“Little bit. Beer’s not as good here, though.”

Another stretch of silence on her end. 

Then, husky-sleepy, slurring his words a tad, “I wanna do bad things with you.”

She scoffs into her pillow. “I dunno if you realize this, but it’s four in the morning where I am.”

“Did you not hear me?” he snaps, frustrated. “I’m trying to initiate phone sex! God, and you people have the nerve to call _me_ old.”

There’s a click and the line goes dead, but she’s asleep before he so much as says “sex.”

 

* * *

 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you last night. And waking you up. I…I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“You were yelling?” Daisy grumbles, phone between her neck and shoulder, yawning as she ties the laces on her boots.

“Yeah,” Bucky says slowly, embarrassed. “You don’t remember?” 

“Well, it was four AM and I was half asleep, so, no, not really.”

He’s a tad offended. He’s not sure why. “Oh.”

“Yeah. It’s fine, though. Just don’t call me that late again if you’re drunk. Also, tell Mack to revoke your phone privileges, too.”

Now he’s definitely offended. “Okay,” he mutters. 

“Good boy,” she purrs. He makes a strangled noise.

 

* * *

 

“I brought home a souvenir.”

“I’m afraid to look.”

“No, it’s fine. Open your eyes.”

She peeks through her fingers. 

“Bucky!”

“What? You don’t like it?”

“Put that away before someone sees it!”

“We’re the only two people in here.”

“The government is always watching!”

A pause. “Daisy, we _are_ the government.” 

“You know what I mean. Put it away, put it away!”

“Alright, fine! There, it’s back in the box. Happy?”

She scowls, crossing her arms. “I’m insulted you think we even need one of those.”

It takes him a second to grasp what she’s implying.

“ _Babe_.”

“What? Teamwork makes the dream work. Why buy a vibrator when you and I can—”

“ _I get it_ , Daisy.”

Another pause. “Good boy.” 

Fuck.


	15. intervention (part 1)

“Bucky, can I talk to you?” 

“I’m kinda in the middle of something, babe.”

“You’re just standing there stuffing your face with Little Debbie snack cakes.” 

“Exactly. Let a man eat in peace.”

So she waits. And eats a Little Debbie snack cake when he offers one.

 

* * *

 

“Okay, so what is this about?”

They’re outside the conference room, where everybody is gathered.

Daisy takes a deep breath. “There’s an…emergency,” she fibs awkwardly. He squints. “With the…an out of control Inhuman. We need all eyes on it.”

He nods seriously, beefy arms crossed. “’Kay.”

She looks very uncomfortable. With a sigh, she grabs his elbow and pulls him into the room, quickly shutting and locking it behind them.

Jemma stands up, her face sad. “Bucky. So glad you could join us.”

Bucky glances from the scientist to his girlfriend to the somber faces of Coulson, May, Mack, Fitz, and Elena. “What’s…going on?” 

“This is an intervention,” Jemma tells him. “For you.”

His jaw drops and he glares accusingly at Daisy, who cowers. “You said there was an emergency!”

“There is!” she shouts, and plants herself in front of the door so he can’t leave. “You’re the emergency!”

“What did I do?!” A little panicked, his eyes grow wide. “Is this a joke?”

“No, Bucky, it isn’t,” Jemma says softly, approaching and handing over a file. “This is a report from your last physical exam.” 

“God, you went through my medical files?”

“Bucky, I gave you the exam. I printed this out.”

“Still!” He scowls at the tiny brunette. “I don’t see a problem here.”

“You eat too much sugar,” Elena drawls from the table, looking and sounding bored out of her skull. “That’s the problem. We’re worried.”

“Yeah, Yo-yo, you sound pretty concerned with what I put in my body.”

“We’re just trying to help,” Jemma insists. “Too much sugar can lead to heart disease, excessive weight gain, diabetes, liver failure, all sorts of shit! I mean crap. Pardon my language. But I’m rather surprised you haven’t had an aneurysm from high blood pressure by now!” 

Bucky stares. Jemma stares back. Everyone stares at them staring at each other.

Then, “Daisy. Please move out of the way.” 

“Nope. Nuh-uh. Not a chance, buddy. You’re not leaving until we put you on a diet!”

They’re going to be there for a while.

**_TO BE CONTINUED_ **


	16. intervention (part 2)

“What’s the point of knocking me out and tying me to a chair if you know I can—shit, what kind of tape is this?”

Wriggling to escape the confines of the chair he’s been forced to sit in, Bucky pouts when his efforts are unsuccessful. 

“I’m the Winter Soldier, for Christ’s sake!” he yells. “This shouldn’t be so—fucking—difficult—gah!”

“Fitz disabled your arm,” Daisy tells him nonchalantly, feet propped up on the table.

Bucky tries to move his left arm but can’t. “Goddammit, I knew there was a catch when he repaired it that one time…” 

“Bucky.” Jemma rolls her chair closer to his. He scoots away from her with his feet. “Bucky, listen. There was no other way to do this—”

“How about you calmly and quietly bringing it up to me instead of humiliating me with an intervention and restraints?” He drops his wet eyes to his lap, his right hand curling into a fist. “Please let me go. Then we can…chat. About my _diet_.” He spits the last word.

After several dubious glances, Fitz reactivates Bucky’s arm using a small remote and Elena cuts the tape off Bucky’s torso.

“Thank you.” His voice is hard. Ragged. Daisy realizes they just did something very, very wrong.

“We’re sorry,” Jemma moans, “we didn’t know how else to—”

“Like I said,” Bucky interrupts, getting to his feet, “there was no need for this. Can I see that?” He points to Fitz’s remote and snatches it out of his grasp before he can respond, and crushes it to pieces with the metal hand it apparently controls. 

Fitz goes paler than freshly fallen snow.

“Now.” Bucky pauses. “If you wanna talk about my sugar intake, do it in a more humane way.”

He stalks toward the door and promptly kicks it off its hinges once he realizes it’s been electronically sealed. 

Silence settles among the team. They definitely did something wrong.

 

* * *

 

“I hate myself. He hates me. He’s gonna break up with me.” 

Jemma strokes Daisy’s hair and pats her shoulder. “No, he won’t.”

“He hates all of us but he hates me the most. I can’t believe I did that to him.”

Jemma kisses the top of Daisy’s head. “We all did it.”

 

 

* * *

  

“Bucky? Can I come in?”

“Depends. You guys gonna tie me up again?”

“No, babe. It’s just me.”

He sighs. “Okay. You may enter.” 

She finds him sprawled out on their bed. Shoes still on. Because he knows she hates that.

He looks at her and sees her flushed cheeks. Her red-rimmed eyes. “Were you crying?” He can’t hide his instinctual concern for her.

“Yeah.” She sits on an empty spot beside him. “Little bit.”

He chews his lip. Takes her hand. They’re quiet.

Then, “I’m so sorry.”

“You were just trying to help.” 

“Shouldn’t have gone about it like that. It was wrong.”

His mouth pulls up at the corner. “Did you really think I’d run away if you told me you were worried about my health?”

She lifts a shoulder. “Yeah, kinda.”

He grins fully now. “No, silly. I wouldn’t.” He pulls himself up and leans forward to kiss her, gently cupping her neck. “I love you.”

She touches his dumb scruffy face. The face she loves so much. “Still?” 

“Yeah, honey. Still. Always.” 

She nods. There’s another pause. 

Then, “So when can we talk about your diet?”

“Don’t push it, sweetheart.”


	17. dieting

“I’m a one-hundred-year-old supersoldier. I should be allowed to consume as much sugar as I want.”

“Legally, yes, you are,” Jemma agrees. “But it doesn’t hurt to eat healthy, too.” 

“You’re not invincible, Buck,” Daisy reminds him, patting his elbow sympathetically. 

He rolls his eyes. “I survived my fall because I have physically enhancing serum pumping through my veins. Candy bars and shit won’t hurt me.” 

“Still would be nice if you saved some for the rest of us,” Fitz mutters from his desk.

“Be quiet, Einstein, I’m not talkin’ to you,” Bucky snaps at him.

He’s understandably still upset about the whole secret-arm-programming thing. Fitz shrinks further into his chair.

“So,” Bucky sighs, staring dolefully down at the list of “healthy” foods Jemma has written for him. “Do I have to go shop for this stuff?”

Daisy beams, rising on her toes excitedly. “I’ll go with you,” she chirps. Jemma gives her a discreet thumbs-up. Bucky groans.

 

* * *

 

“ _Kale_? She wants me to eat _kale_? Jesus Christ…” 

Bucky squints at the list with Daisy peeking over his cybernetic elbow.

“Why don’t cha try it?” she suggests, aiming for an optimistic tone, though she herself sounds a tad nervous. 

Bucky pulls a face and shakes his head vehemently. “No. Can we just get a bottle of those vitamin gummy things? Those are like healthy candy.”

Daisy rolls her eyes, grabbing his arm and leading him in the direction of the produce section. He whines the whole way there.

 

* * *

 

“Wow. You brought the farmer’s market to us.” 

Hands in her jacket pockets, Elena watches Daisy and Bucky unload five bags of groceries.

Bucky scoffs. “I’m burning this crap later when everyone’s asleep.”

May rolls her eyes, popping a cherry tomato into her mouth. “For a highly-trained agent, you should know not to divulge your evil plot.”

Bucky tosses another tomato at her then pouts when she catches it between her teeth.

“This is the worst day of my entire life,” he mutters, sliding a bundle of carrots into the fridge. “And I’ve had a _lot_ of those.” 

Daisy compassionately pats his flesh arm. “This is for the greater good, babe.”

She leaps up to kiss him on the cheek, and he waits til she’s not looking to let himself smile.


	18. christmas (part 1)

“Dude. Why are you on the floor?”

“I’m thinking, my love.”

“About what?” 

“What I want for Christmas.”

“You can’t do that sitting or standing?”

He scoffs. “Absolutely not.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re weird,” she mutters, leaving and closing their door behind her.

 

* * *

 

“Did you find Bucky?” 

“Yeah, he’s on the floor thinking about what he wants for Christmas.”

Daisy picks up a string of garland as she answers Jemma’s question with an uncaring shrug.

Jemma’s brow furrows and Daisy wonders how that confuses her. It’s a Bucky thing.

“Okay, well, Mack and Coulson will be back soon with the tree,” Jemma informs Daisy. “He’ll want to be here.”

Daisy nods. “His first Christmas with us,” she muses. “Should be fun.”

 

* * *

 

“Daisy! Daisy, Daisy, Daisy!” 

“What, what, what?”

Bucky literally slides into the room, waving his arms for balance when he stops. “I know what I want for Christmas,” he announces, and his bright-eyed expression makes him almost appear childlike.

“Okay then, tell me.”

He takes a big, dramatic breath. “A motorcycle.”

Daisy stares at him, now holding a string of lights while Jemma tacks them up on the wall. “A motorcycle?”

“Yes. Please, and thank you in advance.”

“You were on the floor for God knows how long and that’s the best you can come up with? Just a motorcycle?”

His face falls. “You mean I’m allowed to ask for more than one thing?”

She laughs once. “Not with the budget you’re giving me. Nah, dude. You’ve exceeded your present limit.”

He kicks the air in frustration. 

Watching from the kitchen, May snorts into her cocoa mug.


	19. christmas (part 2)

“Sorry about that, Jemma. I don’t know what happened.” 

“It’s fine. Do you feel better?”

Daisy shrugs, grimacing as she hops back onto her counter stool. Jemma has kindly removed her half-eaten plate of eggs so her sudden nausea won’t be triggered again. 

“That was weird,” Daisy mutters, perplexed.

Jemma looks like she wants so say something but is trying really hard to keep it to herself. 

But Daisy knows Simmons like the back of her hand. “Don’t you say it,” she groans.

“Say what?” Jemma counters innocently.

Daisy drops her face into her hands. “You know what.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Jemma, have you seen Daisy?” 

 _She just ran off to vomit again_. “No,” Jemma answers pleasantly, giving Bucky a smile. “Not in a bit. Sorry.”

He pouts. “I can’t find her anywhere. We’re supposed to go last-minute Christmas shopping.”

“I’m here,” Daisy’s croaky voice announces from behind them. 

“Babe!” Jemma flinches as Bucky goes to her and scoops her off her feet. Daisy yells in protest.

“Oh, sorry,” Bucky gushes apologetically, setting her down gently. “Did I squish you?”

“Yeah,” Daisy mumbles. “But I’m fine. You ready to go?”

Jemma gestures for Daisy to talk to her but Daisy gives her _a look_. 

Well, so much for reminding her to pick up a test.

 

* * *

 

“Okay, Johnson. You can do this. Just pee on the stick. No big deal.”

She got a text from Jemma while out shopping and discreetly managed to buy a… _test_. 

(Bucky was messing around with some mechanical reindeer. He didn’t notice.)

It takes her half an hour to finally build up the courage to. You know. Do it. 

“And now we wait,” she sighs. It’s the longest two minutes of her life.

  

* * *

 

There’s wrapping paper everywhere. Bucky is quite thrilled. 

“Wait, where you going?” He pops up from a sea of color, somehow having sensed Daisy was leaving.

“I’ll be right back,” she calls over her shoulder. He pouts.

She returns with something small in her fist. Grinning, she dangles a pair of keys in front of him.

It takes him a moment to understand. Then he whoops and scrambles to his feet.

“It’s out in the garage,” Daisy laughs. “Go look.”

She motions for everyone to follow. “There’s something else, too.”

They find Bucky in the garage, sitting on his shiny new motorcycle. He’s reading the note she’d pinned to the seat.

“‘Merry Christmas, Dad’?” he reads aloud, confused. He looks at Daisy. “What?”

Everyone collectively gasps. Daisy smiles. “You know what.”

He does. And it’s way better than the motorcycle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry christmas and a happy new year my children
> 
> see u guys in 2018!


	20. valentine's day

“What are you giving Jemma for Valentine’s Day?”

“My love and devotion.”

Bucky frowns. It looks like a smile, since he’s upside-down in his chair, long legs draped over the back.

“You mean you didn’t get her flowers and chocolate? What, you’re gonna love her more than usual tomorrow?”

“That’s precisely it, my friend.”

Bucky’s frown deepens, missing Fitz’s smug expression. “Shit. Guess I have to return the matching onesie set I got for Daisy and the baby.”

Fitz sighs. That wasn’t what he meant.

 

* * *

 

“I’m wearing the shit outta these jeans before I have to start buying maternity ones.”

“I can barely see your bump. You’re all filled out, though.”

She scrunches up her face. “I wasn’t before?”

He reaches out to touch her belly, tracing the faint outline of a bump. “Not like this,” he answers cheekily, and she pouts.

“You look _amazing_ , Daisy,” Jemma insists, turning on the sonogram monitor.

“I didn’t say she doesn’t!” Bucky yelps anxiously.

Daisy sticks her tongue out at him. “Be nice to me, mister. Baby hears _everything_.”

“Mmm, not yet,” Jemma interjects kindly. “Not until you’re at least twenty-three weeks.”

Bucky has seen the baby every week since Christmas. He cries again anyway.

 

* * *

 

“Ohhh, Jemma made cupcakes. Thank Christ, I’m starving.”

Daisy tosses her phone on the bed and makes a beeline for the door, not without grabbing Bucky’s wrist first.

They make their way to the kitchen, hand in hand, and it comes as a surprise to no one when Daisy eats nearly half the batch.

“I’m eating for two,” she points out around a mouthful, pink frosting on her cheek.

Bucky gives the latest sonogram photo to Elena when she asks, and it gets passed around.

He glows with pride over all the praise his unborn kid receives from their future family.

 

* * *

 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, babe.”

“Hm? Oh! You got me something! Gimme, gimme!”

She takes the box he offers and excitedly tears off the wrapping paper.

Understandably, she bawls, delighted with the giraffe onesies.

“I got you this,” she announces once she stops crying, pulling a small fancy box from her sock drawer and handing it to him.

He gapes at his gift, a shiny new watch.

“Jesus,” he whispers, throat tight with emotion. “First a motorcycle then a baby, now a watch. I don’t deserve you.”

She kisses him. He kisses her back. It leads to some Valentine’s Day shenanigans.


	21. birthday 2.0

“What do you want for your birthday?”

“Hugs and smooches.”

“I give you those every day. C’mon, I’ll buy you anything you want.”

“You just got me a watch. Really, I don’t need anything.”

Pouting, she lays down beside him, folding her hands over her small bump. “What about a gift card? Then you can choose.”

He considers that for a minute. “Nah.”

“Can I just get you a plain old card, then?”

A pause. Then, “A pop-up one with music? I like those.”

She grins. “Sure thing, babe.”

 

* * *

 

“Remember, Simmons, no balloons. If they pop, he could freak out.”

“I know, I know. He must be pretty excited to find out the baby’s gender on his birthday.”

“I am, too. We haven’t discussed what we think it is yet, though.”

Passing by, Coulson shouts into the common room, “I vote girl!”

“Boy,” May adds, grinning, as she descends the nearby staircase.

Daisy looks to Jemma helplessly. “And so it begins.”

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe my birthday party is actually my kid’s gender reveal party. Cool.”

Sam claps Bucky on the shoulder. “You deserve it, man. Listen, I’m the top contender for godfather, right?”

Steve and Mack both give him a look, then regard each other with superiority.

Daisy steps in before things get heated. “Fellas. You all can love this baby equally. We haven’t even started thinking of names yet.”

“Samuel Thomas Barnes,” Sam suggests, and Steve squawks indignantly.

“Um, hello,” he interjects, gesturing to himself, “Bucky’s lifelong best friend, standing right here.”

“Guys,” Daisy deadpans. “You’re gonna feel really stupid if it’s a girl, so don’t get too ahead of yourselves, alright?”

“And you’re gonna name her Elena,” Yoyo says, smacking Daisy on the rear as she walks by.

 

* * *

 

Bucky loves his musical pop-up card that everybody signed. He loves his cake even more.

“I’m so nervous. Oh, God, I can’t do this. Daisy, you cut the cake.”

“It’s your cake, Buck.”

“Technically it’s the baby’s cake,” Jemma mutters.

“I’m running out of storage on my phone,” Sam quips. “Hurry up and cut the damn thing.”

Together, Daisy and Bucky wield the knife and cut the first piece, revealing the color on the inside that only Jemma knew.

And now everybody knows.

“I was right!” Coulson yells exuberantly.

It’s Bucky’s best birthday ever.


	22. eventually

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sry for like . abandoning this lolz
> 
> 1 or 2 more chapters and then this thing is overrr. whoop. who is ready to meet baby barnes

“I can’t believe a year ago you weren’t even pregnant yet.”

“Yeah. That’s how it works.”

He rolls his eyes. “I know that. I’m just sayin’.”

Talk about walking on eggshells.

Daisy makes grabby hands at him and says, “Help me up or else I’m never leaving this chair.”

He helps her up, and surprises her with the gentlest hug he can manage. “You smell good,” he sighs into her hair.

She scoffs, but gives him a squeeze. “Thank you. So you do.”

There’s a comfortable pause, then, “So, what do you want for your birthday?”

“Aw, geez.” She shoves him away and pokes him in the chest. “I told you. I tell you every time. _Nothing_.”

He pouts, delicately touching her bump. “But it’s a special birthday. You’re gonna be—”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t say it, don’t remind me.”

Waving her hands, she half-waddles out.

 

* * *

 

“Okay, Barnes. You can do this.”

He takes a deep breath, shaking the nerves from his hands. Then he knocks on Coulson’s door.

“You may enter,” Coulson replies in a jokey dad tone. Bucky smiles.

This should be easy. His gut assures him so.

 

* * *

 

“Don’t argue with me on it, just tell me what flavor cake you want.”

Daisy huffs and pointedly avoids looking at Jemma. “What is it with you and cakes?”

“They’re fun,” Jemma answers simply. “So, what flavor?”

Daisy bites her cheek, giving Jemma the evil eye.

Then, under her breath, “Chocolate.”

Jemma grins and jots that down.

 

* * *

 

Daisy doesn’t like her birthday to be a big deal. So it isn’t.

People give her hugs, cards, and small gifts that are only acceptable because they’re for the baby.

And the cake, of course. The cake is delicious.

“I ate for two,” she sighs, flopping onto the pillows. “Don’t give me that look.”

“What look?” He’s been smiling and jittery all day. He can’t help it.

She flips him off. “You know what look.”

He shakes his head. “I dunno what you’re talkin’ about. I ain’t giving you no look.” He crawls over to her and kisses her. “Hi.”

“Hi. You taste like chocolate.” She boops him on the nose. “Okay, you’re freaking me out. Why are you smiling?”

He bites his lip. Hesitating. Her eyes narrow.

He reaches into his pocket. Takes out the surprise. She gasps.

His throat is swollen, definitely from all the sugar, but he doesn’t even need to ask. He never had to. She was always going to say yes.

Dizzy from shock and emotion, she can only manage to wonder aloud, “Did you ask Coulson?”

He snorts a laugh. “Yes. Yes, I did. Happy birthday.”

“Thanks. Okay, then. Put it on me.”

Her fingers aren’t too puffy yet that he can’t slide the ring where it’s supposed to go.

They hug, and they kiss, and they cry for a while.

 _Eventually_ , they had pinky-promised.

Daisy never breaks a promise.


End file.
